


Crimes of Passion

by ivysaurusrex, StuffIBetaed (ThoughtsCascade)



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Bad Decisions, Bad Flirting, Best Friends, Blushing idiots, Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, But They're Secretly Gay For Eachother Shhhh, Crimes & Criminals, Don't Try This At Home, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Graffiti, Idiots, M/M, Making Out, Mutual Pining, Piragua, Surprise Kissing, They're a little dumb but it's okay we love them, be gay do crime, friend dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 14:17:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16536176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivysaurusrex/pseuds/ivysaurusrex, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoughtsCascade/pseuds/StuffIBetaed
Summary: Pete had warned him that he was planning on keeping Sonny out later than he usually did. Sonny didn't exactly understand what Pete was getting at with that, but he’d quickly accepted the invite to go along with whatever venture Pete had planned. He knew his friend didn't have any intentions to hurt him, or even make him do shit he wasn't comfortable with.Pete was good like that. Pete was better than most of the people in their age group like that. Pete cared like that.





	Crimes of Passion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YourAverageAspiringAuthor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourAverageAspiringAuthor/gifts).



> Special thanks to @ThoughtsCascade for making sure this wasn't an absolute disaster! It's much appreciated.
> 
> Spanish translations:  
> No me le creo - “I don't believe it”, but in the sassy, gossipy way.  
> Matón - Hoodlum  
> Meirda - Shit
> 
> This is my first post on here, so don't be too harsh! Please!  
> This is for my s/o's birthday so,,,, go send them some birthday wishes!! Ily!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Spring was probably Sonny’s favorite season.

When it came to the upper east coast, the weather was generally stereotyped as drastically hot or drastically cold. Which, for the most part, was true. People tended to sweep spring and fall under the rug, and honestly, it was understandable. They were the perfect temperature most of the time and it wasn’t as fun as to complain about them. The sole reason he preferred spring was because the days were getting longer.

Longer days meant Pete (his very best friend and favorite part-time criminal) went out while it was still light out, and while Sonny didn't mind going out at night, Usnavi (his very best cousin and favorite part-time ball of anxiety) tended to get nervous when he was out later than sunset. Especially with the infamous Graffiti Pete- which was where the issue came in.

Pete had warned him that he was planning on keeping Sonny out later than he usually did. Sonny didn't exactly understand what Pete was getting at with that, but he’d quickly accepted the invite to go along with whatever venture Pete had planned. He knew his friend didn't have any intentions to hurt him, or even make him do shit he wasn't comfortable with. Pete was good like that. Pete was better than most of the people in their age group like that. Pete cared like that.

Anyways.

Before Pete had distracted him without even being in the room, Sonny’d been coming up with excuses. His first instinct had been to just go with the educational route; tell Usnavi he heard some talk about some controversial speech the mayor gave or whatever, that he was going to the library to watch clips of it. His cousin would assume he’d get filled in on it later and wouldn’t even bat an eye. It was a flawless plan until he went to pick him up from the library after work and didn’t find him there.

Ultimately, Sonny just decided he’d go with the truth with a few parts left out. Usnavi wasn’t invasive enough that he’d call his friends’ parents to make sure Sonny was with them, he could easily use that to his advantage. Besides- it was spring break. Usnavi wasn't about to restrict him from going to his friend’s house.

He looked up from the long petrified price sticker stuck to the countertop he’d been picking at, rubbing his fingers together to get some of the stick off of them. His cousin was next to him, flipping through some paperwork and striking out the occasional line of text.

“Navi, one of my friends called me while I was on break. Got some homework they wanted help with, didn’t get what was going on in our assigned reading or something,” he piped up, propping himself up with his elbows. It sounded less convincing now that it was put out in words, but he had a good feeling Usnavi wasn’t about to shut him down.

Usnavi cast a skeptical glance in his direction, and Sonny could feel a slight ball of tension beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t consider himself one to really go out of his way to do things his cousin didn’t like, nevermind lying directly to his face.

“No me lo creo,” Usnavi deadpanned. It was a solid moment before his expression faded into a more familiar, humorous one. Sonny felt all of his worries dissolve almost instantaneously. “You’re actually spending time away from that punk? You’ve been glued to him for what, a year now? I was startin’ to think I’d have to pick you up from the police station one of these days.”

Sonny exhaled loudly through his nose, but quickly replaced the noise of relief with a short bout of laughter. “You worry too much, man. I keep myself out of danger. He doesn’t make me do anythin’ that’ll get me in serious trouble.”

His cousin let out a quiet snort, shaking his head. “You keep telling yourself that, papi,” he paused a few heartbeats, long enough for Sonny to be amused by the expression of pure consternation on his face. “Clock out early. Scram, shoo. Don’t come back until your friend is guaranteed an A,” Usnavi finished, stepping out from the area behind the counter in order to let Sonny through.

His cousin’s apparent enthusiasm over the whole idea of him straying from his best friend almost made him feel guilty, but in all honesty, he was too proud he'd made that work to care about how Usnavi would feel right now. “Thanks, coz. Appreciate it,” he knocked his fist against the elder’s back as he walked past, elated.

As he headed out the front door, he made a quick note of the time. It was around five at this point- he had around a half hour to kill before he was supposed to meet Pete. Ultimately, he decided to just head over to their meeting spot a bit early. They had decided to meet at 190th Street Station, considering it was a good 15 minute walk from the bodega and in the opposite direction of his apartment. Unless Usnavi decided he wanted to go for a random outing to Fort Tryon Park, they'd be safe from him- or anyone from the barrio, for that matter.

Sonny stopped by the piragüero’s cart on his way to pick up piragua for him and his best friend. He got Pete’s favorite flavor, cherry, and his own favorite, grape. It was one of the 'today only’ flavors, but locals discovered pretty fast the flavors rotated on a weekly schedule. Occasionally it'd switch up, but even then, Saturdays were grape. Yet another reason to look forward to Saturdays.

He started to regret getting the piragua more and more as he walked. His fingers were getting the dessert all over them from the slight heat melting it, and he was almost sure it'd be fully melted by the time they met up. He sipped hesitantly at the edge of his own cup, which solved that problem. Sonny wasn't sure what to do about Pete’s- he didn't want to steal any of his friend’s shaved ice, even if it was becoming a puddle and he'd bought it, and he didn't want to share saliva with Pete (without asking, of course). Not that he wanted to share saliva with him in the first place.

_Anyways._

Sonny situated himself on a bench nearby the station, right beside a set of stairs. Through his searching for a perfect spot to sit, he'd killed about another five minutes. Only about ten minutes left to wait for Pete. Ten minutes left of his friend’s piragua dribbling down onto his hand, the syrup making it sticky with no more napkins left to dab it off. Damnit. Reluctantly, he set the cups down beside him and began to wipe the back of his hand on his pipeline cargo shorts. Thankfully, they were one of his darker pairs, so the stain wasn’t visible whatsoever. He was so preoccupied with wiping his hand off that he didn't notice his best friend sliding down the railing on the stairs behind him.

It was the commotion that made him look up. He'd heard some sneakers skidding against the metal railing, a few frenzied curses, a more loud, surprised bout of curses, and an unpleasant thunk. Sonny glanced over his shoulder to see Pete splayed across the ground and frantically apologizing to the guy whose fingers he'd nearly ran over while sliding down the banister. Sonny barely stifled his laughter, standing up in order to head over and help his friend up.

They locked eyes as Sonny walked towards Pete, the latter sporting a large, somewhat embarrassed grin. While Pete typically held up a masculine persona with bravado through the roof, Sonny liked to think he softened up around him. And it seemed to be true, too. He'd never really questioned why- figured it was just because they were friends, that he was like this around all of his friends. Recently, though, Sonny had been picking up on more of his best friend’s behaviors around their other friends. It was more typical- flirting with girls, shit talking, tough- the embodiment of the punk persona he held up. And then here he was, reduced to a nervous wreck just from nearly hurting someone's fingers. Sonny couldn't help but smile, gently gripping his arm to ease him up to his feet.

“You alright, man? You coulda hurt yourself, fallin’ off like that,” he said, examining Pete’s face for any signs of an injury.

The other nodded in response, taking his arm from Sonny’s grip in order to shake it out. “Yeah, I'm good,” he paused to check his arm in a few places for the beginnings of a bruise. “I wanted that to be wicked cool. Was gonna impress you with some badass trick off the end of the railing or something.”

Sonny rolled his eyes at his best friend, pivoting on his feet to head back to his bench and their piragua. “I got you some cherry piragua. It's sorta melted, but… It's your favorite, right?” he glanced back at Pete, who had regained his composure and was following him over to sit down on the bench.

“Yeah, thank you. 'S nice that you never forget anything,” he said with a smile, eyeing the somewhat melted cup of red shaved ice as he sat down beside it. “I'll pay you back?” Sonny knew it wasn't the ideal way to eat piragua, but Pete still seemed appreciative. That was what was good about him.

“Nah. Don't worry about it,” Sonny sat himself down beside his best friend as they both began to finally eat their piragua.

They talked about nothing serious as they ate, just laughing, joking around, and telling how things had been going since the last time they'd seen each other. It had only been that morning, when Pete had briefly visited the bodega while Usnavi was on lunch break to propose Sonny go out with him that night. He'd accepted right away, slipped Pete a slushie across the counter, and then gotten back to work like nothing had even happened. That was the only possible, safe way they could see each other while Sonny was working. It sucked, but that was the routine that they had to go by, and they managed.

Pete had gone on a spiel about how his murals kept on getting painted over that Sonny had heard a million times over (not that he cared about that fact- it was nice to see how enthusiastic his friend got) a few moments ago. He waved the plastic spoon he was eating his piragua with around fanatically and Sonny just stared as if he was enchanted. Only when Pete stopped for what he hoped would only be for a few beats was Sonny brought out of it.

“Sonny, you alright? You look a lil out of it,” Pete said, unable to hide the concern on his expression. Sonny nodded fervently, trying desperately to hide the embarrassment that had washed over him at being caught admiring Pete. Admiring him in a friendly way.

“Hell yeah, man, don't worry about it. I'm just into your story,” he leaned back, feigning a cool attitude despite being found out. It wasn't as if Pete cared, there was just something a bit… daunting about Pete knowing how he felt about him. He didn't want the attention on him staying any longer. “Why don't we get going?”

His friend agreed with Sonny's idea almost instantly, looking excited to get out of there as he scraped up the last bit of his cherry piragua. As they stood up and began walking to a destination that was still unknown to the younger man, he decided to touch up on said feelings about Pete.

Their relationship began as a tense one, surprisingly. They had met a few years ago. Pete had been hardened, almost aggressive, and opposed to being friendly with just about anyone who wasn't a young criminal. But luckily for him, Sonny was too stubborn and insistent. He just about forced Pete into a friendship, slipping him test slushie recipes and candy wrappers that were only half empty from his cousin’s rather popular bodega. In return, Pete had begun to take him on his little escapades to commit petty theft, mostly because Sonny had begged incessantly and Pete had felt somewhat obligated. But only once, to pay him back for all of those snacks. That's when their friendship began to bud, and when Pete decided it was best to have a plus one.

Sonny began to introduce him to his ideologies and opinions, would go on rants about classism and racism and xenophobia and their current political climate. And Pete would listen. He was one of the only people that took Sonny seriously, who didn't look at him as someone who was adorable, barely a teenager, and who had his head stuck up in the clouds. He adored the feeling of validation. Slowly, their outings got less criminal, (mostly due to Sonny explaining why theft wasn't helping them escape from racial stigma whatsoever- Pete felt like he was letting him down by continuing) and Pete started introducing Sonny to his other passions. That was about the time Pete started experimenting with spray paint and graffiti, and about the time Sonny started experimenting with the idea of liking boys and girls.

It started with snooping on one of his teacher’s Facebook page. Well, he wouldn’t call it snooping, it had simply been open on a seperate tab when Sonny went to use the computer to print a picture out for one of his projects. How was he supposed to resist looking? It was just a quick peek, but that was all it took for him to discover that said teacher was in a relationship with a man. That was about the first time he’d really been introduced to two men or two women being in a relationship. But still, he shrugged it off the best he could and got back to doing what he was doing.

It wasn’t until the teacher got fired a few months later that he really began to think about it.

The school had disclosed no real reasoning for it, but as thirteen year olds do, his classmates began searching for answers. Of course, they found them, and then those answers were circulated throughout their grade. He’d been fired because he was gay. That’s the first time he realized there was discrimination against the LGBT+ community, and the first time he'd considered the LGBT+ community in the first place. And oh, did he research it. Almost everyday he went to the library to look at statistics, analyze them, read up on the pride organizations based in Manhattan, along with their history. Surprisingly enough, it took him a while to realize this interest might say something about him. He thought he was only interested for the sake of awareness, like he usually was. He started questioning around a year later, when he'd returned his focus back to his neighborhood.

And here he was now, pining after his best friend who he'd already labeled as unobtainable before he even knew he was crushing on him. So, needless to say, he was screwed in the romantic field until he fell out of love with Pete and found someone else to pant after. Sonny kicked at a broken piece of concrete on the sidewalk, tuning into the story Pete was telling that he honestly hadn't realized he was telling.

“And then this guy had the nerve to tell me to leave, after all I'd just gone through for him. I mean, shit, good luck finding ano-,” Pete cut himself off, stopping by an alleyway and peeking into it to make sure nobody was there. It only took a moment before he was giving Sonny a bright, crooked grin and grabbing onto his hand tight. “Here we are. Our special destination. Promise you I'll fill you in on the rest of that story later,” he said, guiding him into it.

Sonny looked around, examining the alley. He couldn't see anything all that special about it other than the fact one of the towering brick walls was almost completely clean. While that was a feat by itself, it usually meant there was a reason artists stayed away from them. He swallowed hard and let go of Pete's hand, pacing over to the wall opposite of the clean one and sitting down.

Pete stared up at that wall like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in the world. It took him a minute before he actually began speaking. “We gotta be quick, because it's only a couple hours before the company working here lets out. Keep time for me, okay? Lemme know when it's seven, so we can clean up fast enough to get out of here,” he said, kneeling down and swinging his bag off his shoulders.

It was difficult to fathom how stupid of an idea this was. Surely there were cameras, or they ran the risk of someone getting out of work early. But he tried to ignore that. He could see how happy Pete looked at just the sight of this wall, and Sonny would have to be a monster to take that away from him. So he didn't. He kept his mouth shut and trusted that Pete knew what he was doing. And honestly, he knew exactly what he was doing. Painting was his thing. Sonny had known his best friend a good while, and it seemed anytime Pete was upset or emotional over anything he'd drag Sonny out and paint a building. Oftentimes they'd hardly talk while he painted, but it wasn't tense. It was a sort of quiet conversation, with Pete looking back at him every so often to make sure he approved of what he was doing.

That's why he thought their bond was so good. Sonny had never seen Pete take anyone else out; it was always him. He was absolutely convinced that meant something. It had to.

Pete was doing some sort of masterpiece, a real beautiful one that still managed to be simple. It was a portrait of a shirtless woman, vines and orchids and lilies and amaryllises weaving up her arms, contrasting greatly with her dark skin. He watched, mystified. The way he picked the perfect colors with ease, how every line was near perfect with such minimal effort. It was incredible. His arm flexed each time he made a stroke, a light sheen of sweat covering it. By the look on his face, it seemed as if the wall was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. As if it was all that was left for him to value, the only love and hope he could find anymore. It was pure passion and care. Sonny let himself think, for just a moment, that he wanted someone to look at him like that. _No, shit,_ he thought. _I want him to look at me like that._

He could imagine it. Pete's arms holding him tight, keeping him to himself. His eyes locking with his with that same amount of emotion, but this time, it was all for him. His lips slightly parted, damp, the perfect condition to kiss. And oh, that kiss would be perfect. He'd hold him up close to his chest and swing him a bit, drawing it out as long as he possibly could. He'd pull away and Sonny would be breathless, but still so happy, a grin spreading across his face ear to ear.

Unfortunately, he didn't realize his face was red fast enough to hide it. The next time Pete looked over to silently communicate, he hesitated before looking back at his piece. “You're red, Sonny. Thinkin’ 'bout a particular guy or gal?”

Sonny feverishly shook his head, cursing himself for fantasizing. Fuck, maybe save that for his bedroom. “Nah, I'm cool. It's just a little hot out, even in the shade,” he said, flat out lying. Rarely did he ever lie to Pete, but it seemed appropriate to do right in that moment. His best friend looked between his painting and Sonny, before sighing.

“My wrist's getting sore anyways. C'mon, spill,” he set down the can he was holding, heading over to the side of the alleyway Sonny was sitting on and plopping himself down beside him.

Sonny gaped, trying to think of a way to lie to him. It was nearly impossible to lie to Pete, when after all the years they'd been friends, he'd picked up on every little quirk Sonny had while he was lying, despite the infrequency. “It's a guy,” he admitted, shifting a bit where he was sitting. “He's... been one of my buddies for a while. We hang out a lot, honestly, and it gets- it gets sorta tense sometimes, because I'm just just about positive he's straight.”

Pete was silent for a moment, thinking. Something seemed to dawn on him after a few moments, and Sonny cursed himself for telling the truth. He licked his lips nervously. “Sonny, can I make a wild guess as to who this guy is?” Pete asked, glancing down at him.

Sonny considered telling him. He did. But instead, with less than a moment's notice, he grabbed Pete's cheeks and pulled him down into a kiss. He wasn't sure why he did it-- probably to avoid having to say how he felt out loud-- but damn, did it feel nice to do it. It took Pete a heartbeat to get over the initial shock before he was kissing him back.

The kiss got more and more passionate as time passed, with Sonny being the first to pull away. He drew in a few gasping breaths, eyes wide and pupils blown. Pete was on him in a second, his hands slipping up the sides of his tank top, his lips gently resting on the nape of his neck. Sonny tensed.

“Pete,” he said, panicked.

“We don't gotta do anything you don't wanna do, Sonny, it's okay.”

“No, Pete,” he repeated, staring at the figure behind Pete (who thankfully hadn't noticed them yet) coming out the back door of the building who was trained on his phone, very heatedly typing.

Pete whirled around, noticing the look on Sonny’s face was more than just hesitance. As he should, Sonny had initiated, obviously he wasn’t getting cold feet mere seconds later.

Unfortunately, that was when the man looked up from his phone.

Pete cursed, quickly tearing himself off of Sonny and making a run for his spray cans on the opposite side of the alleyway. He was hurriedly throwing things into his bag, barking loud orders in Sonny’s direction that got lost in translation in the frenzied fear churning in the younger boy’s mind. The guy (whom he’d now processed was a businessman-- the worst type of person to catch you while you’re mid-foreplay and also mid-crime) was also barking loud orders in their direction, which didn’t help with Sonny’s confusion whatsoever.

He was near to paralyzed by fear, his entire meticulously planned out future career flashing before his eye. Sonny was no longer set to be Sonny de la Vega, world renowned activist, the first person in the LGBT+ community to receive the Nobel Peace Prize. He was Sonny de la Vega, New York City renowned disappointment, convict, and graffiti artist sidekick. What a stupid thing to be jailed for.

Thankfully, Graffiti Pete had been through this exact same situation enough times that he knew what to do- run. He gripped his best friend’s arm tight enough to bruise andran, half dragging Sonny out of the alleyway. Sonny opened his mouth to protest, to say that maybe it was a better idea to talk it out with the guy, but Pete told him to shut up before he could even get the words out. He complied and started to run along with him, figuring only one of the two of them was a convicted criminal. He trusted a criminal more than himself right then. Sonny tried to distract himself with the things Usnavi would have to say about that.

He wasn’t exactly sure how long they ran for, but it must’ve been a good while because before he knew it, Pete was hurriedly fishing through Sonny’s pockets to find the key to the back door of the bodega. Within moments he was safe and sound, Pete practically shoving Sonny into the cool, dark back room before sliding the keys under the door. And then he was gone.

Sonny just stood there, stunned, trying desperately to process all that had just happened. Pete had kissed him- he’d touched him in places he’d never really been touched before, too. That was new. They’d run from some guy that was probably set on arresting them. Also new, at least for Sonny. And then Pete had dropped him off at the bodega without even an invite to talk about this later. His mind swam, and he was frantic to figure out what the hell just happened. Mostly between him and Pete, although he was still a bit concerned about getting arrested, too.

He sat down on the cement floor, starting to piece things together. And honestly, he felt giddy, as a teenage boy who’d just gotten kissed by his long-time crush would. Even if it was at the cost of getting nearly arrested-- or, possibly not nearly. Still, he felt a slight bit of anger curl in his gut. He’d always told Pete to take him with him if something like this ended up happening. It wasn’t fair for only him to get charged if he was caught. Sonny was working as a lookout for him. He was just as involved.

He stayed on the floor in hopes that Pete would return, checking his phone just about every five seconds. After around ten minutes, he started to get worried. Fifteen, and he panicked, Twenty, and he was on the verge of actually going to Usnavi for help. And then, finally, after all that damn stress, his phone buzzed softly. There were few times he’d been so relieved to hear his phone go off, and even fewer times he’d been so relieved to see it was a text from Pete.

‘r u stil @ stoer?’ it read, and honestly, Sonny wondered how he even managed to misspell that much in one text. He had started to believe he did it on purpose, just for consistency. For a brief moment, he considered not replying, just because Pete had made him worry. But then he thought back to their kiss. Pete’s lips, parted, red, his eyes shining with want. Want for him. And dammit, he caved.

‘Yup! You best be coming over, if you’re not already in custody, you little matón.’

It was a few minutes before Pete replied. ‘omw now. Xo’

Sonny felt his heart flutter a little bit. Okay, so even if it wasn’t romantic attraction, Pete was into him in some way, shape or form. That was… That was a nice thought. He unlocked the door, waiting impatiently for him to arrive. It was a good five minutes before he did, a little sweaty and looking exhausted. Sonny beamed.

“Didja escape him okay?” he asked, pulling a crate out for Pete to sit on. Mumbling a soft thank you, Pete did just that.

“Yeah, I did. And he didn’t catch either of our faces either, I’m pretty sure. But, ah, it might be a good idea to leave that mural as is,” Pete laughed nervously, leaning back on the crate a bit.

Sonny laughed as well, sitting down on the floor across from him. He wasn’t sure whether or not to address the elephant in the room through action or words. He quickly reprimanded himself. Usnavi was right behind the damn door a little to the left of them; making out with Pete probably wasn’t the greatest idea right now.

“I don’t want to, ah… Make things too terribly awkward, Petie, but I’m a little desperate to talk about all that happened earlier,” Sonny smiled, looking up at his best friend. “I’m.. guessing you’re into guys? You never seemed like the type for that.”

“Yeah- well- I don’t know. I don’t really put labels on it, y’know? I like guys, I like girls, but I do think I’m into guys more. I swing either way,” he responded, giving Sonny a cheeky grin.

Sonny beamed, wider than he’d ever intend to when having a conversation with Pete. “So you are into guys. Which I guessed after, uh… uh, your demonstration earlier.” Pete got that devilish smirk on his face he only got when he was about to drop some stupid shit.

“Yuh-huh… But I’m also not quite sure you got anything out of the demonstration. Maybe I need to demonstrate again,” he waggled his brows. Sonny turned red.

“That was cheesy as hell, and honestly, a turn off.”

“Your red face says otherwise, Sonny.”

Against his own will, the younger boy laughed. “You’re a little bit of an asshole, you know that?” He scooted forward, propping himself up onto his knees so he was level with Pete. “You’re lucky you got a pretty face, or else I wouldn’t like you so much.”

“Please. I got plenty more than just a pretty face, sunshine. I mean, damn… Look at this body, these thick thighs-,” Pete was cut off by both a powerful eye roll, and a soft, sweet kiss. He only pulled away once he was sure Pete wouldn’t continue on his tangent.  
“What does this make us?” Sonny asked softly, his lips still only inches from Pete’s. Pete sighed.

“I don’t know. Let’s get all of our feelings out into some hot make-out seshes, and then we can figure out later, alright?” Pete smiled, grabbing his hips to pull him a bit closer. Sonny answered with another kiss, about as heated as the interrupted one from earlier.

A high pitched, Dominican, clearly anxious voice sounded behind them. “¡Ay, meirda!”

Sonny couldn’t help but agree. _Oh, shit._

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! Thanks for reading this all the way through aha. It's really my first fic, so uh. I hope you enjoyed? Hopefully I'll write more eventually. Also @ Payton you owe me all of your undivided attention for forever.
> 
> Spanish translations:  
> No me le creo - “I don't believe it”, but in the sassy, gossipy way.  
> Matón - Hoodlum  
> Meirda - Shit


End file.
